Other Side
by Ruse
Summary: Elrond reflects darkly on his life, but even he cannot hold back that human spark of hope.


**Other Side**

Elrond reflects darkly on his life, but even he cannot hold back that human spark of hope. Takes place during the scene in TTT where Elrond watches Arwen leave for Valinor.

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Sometimes Valinor seems so very far away. Sometimes he does not feel worthy of going there. Sometimes he would forsake the world for a small taste of the peace his years have forgotten. Sometimes he remembers the other half.

Beams of silvery light cascaded down through the trees as those gray eyes fell upon the procession of lights leading from his home. These diminished times had been long in the making, but not long enough. After so many ages of sorrow and toil the Elves deserved to find peace and let the world of Men stand or fall without aide, but for some reason the idea filled him with unease. Things would change and he much desired change, more than anyone ever guessed, but some of these things would not fall within his control. Not that he had any illusions of such things as ultimate control. No, that would be foolish. It would be human.

Elrond inhaled and continued his vigil with a dark expression. He was beyond hiding it anymore. Left alone in his refuge he felt he had earned the right to brood openly. A small touch of guilt traveled through him when Arwen turned to view her father one last time. Still, he did not despair over his choices. He had done the right thing. Now she would go on without knowing the grief of this world as intimately as he. In Valinor she would be reunited with her mother and she would not have to carry the same burdens he himself bore. This was his hope for her and for his sons. For he knew what would happen were she to remain.

Evenstar turned away from him after a long, parting farewell gaze and he exhaled the breath he had been holding, but his expression did not change. If only there were a way to make her understand without having to allow her to experience the pain. Galadriel would chide him and Celeborn…Celeborn would frown on him as he always had. No, Elrond wasn't very good at being what they were. Endlessly understanding, caring but cold.

Elves lived many ages over Men and gained knowledge from their years, but even if many of the traits were learned, some were also bred into each race. The Elves were naturally inclined to wisdom and caution, to beauty and sorrow. They were gifted the temperament to withstand all the pain of the ages for their longevity. For Men it was different. They did not see even a quarter of the things Elves did. As a race they did not comprehend just how dark the night could be. They were passionate and reckless, easily moved to hope because in so short a span of life they could not afford to carry such grief as Elves. And this, Galadriel had said, would be his downfall.

He had been given the choice to live as an Elf or a Man and had chosen the former, but as much as he liked to pretend it did, this fact did not change who he was. The other side was still there, haunting him, hunting him like a deadly predator. And true to that side, these thoughts angered him easily.

He had tried so hard, so very hard to keep Celebrian by his side. Even now the taste of that defeat was bitter. This woman had kept him grounded and enchanted. He had loved her with all the passion of his humanity and grieved her loss with all the sorrow of his Elven heritage. Though he tried to hide it, he knew it and knew his loved ones knew. After Celebrian's attack and inability to find joy in his love the Lord of Imladris had changed. Another piece of his hope had faded, another thing to cause him to hate this world and being part of it.

Galadriel and Celeborn had mourned their daughter's fate, but had seen her to the shores with understanding and peace. He had seen his wife leave with turmoil burdening his heart and crushing his spirit. The Elf understood why she could not remain here. The Man wondered deep inside why no hope could be found in his love.

It was Galadriel that had first witnessed this weakness in him. In the hours after Celebrian's departure the Lady of Lothlorien had stayed her own grief to give him comfort in this. She had warned him of the dangers of allowing the sorrow too near his heart, for she perceived he had not the same long-suffering temperament as the Elves, or if this will of soul did exist, it was to a lesser degree than deep-feeling Elves were accustomed to. His balance differed from both Men and Elves and he would have to be wary in such woeful times or the tide would consume him.

Sometimes the tide was too strong to hold back. Sometimes he wondered if his heart even stirred for Celebrian anymore. 

When Celeborn had seen this weakness he had kept his thoughts hidden, but the eyes could never lie. He had never fully approved of Elrond and while neither man would care to see harm befall the other, there was little love lost between them. The Elf in Elrond knew the wisdom in remaining silent and allowing the other man the privacy of his own emotions, but the Man resented Celeborn for pre-judging him and loathed that side of himself that made him not good enough.

He was not to take this contention as an insult to his human heritage. No man, Elf-kind or human would ever be good enough for Celebrian. This was the nature of the Lord of Lorien and of fathers the world over. Elrond now understood this well. Estel was credit to the race of Men. He was strong and wise and may yet overcome the darkness upon his wake, but this life he and his daughter dreamed of could only be that. For if it came true and her choice were to remain here, she would face the demons he himself was hard pressed to control.

One day Aragorn would die, be it in a week's time, a year's or that of a lifetime. And then Arwen would be alone. She would be left to her solitude as Elros had been. As he had been. Elrond had lost his brother to humanity. He had lost the love of his wife to humanity—for how could he love her so passionately without allowing his sanity to diminish? His own sons had been taken by that spark of humanity and cast into blind hatred of the Orcs, running off to have their vengeance. He faced losing Arwen to humanity and in all his nearly seven thousand years he was still losing himself to that ever present, loathsome spirit of his darker side.

Men are weak and frail. They are greedy and self-righteous and unable to control their desires. They see power and take it. They are dark and they die. They leave and never return. They cannot handle ages of separation and death and terror.

They should be forgotten.

_I amar prestar aen. Han mathon ne nen. Han mathon ne chae. A han noston ned 'wilith.**1**_

But what if they could be saved?

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**1** – "The world has changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air." – Galadriel, speaking from Lothlorien.

A/N: After seeing TTT for the fourth time tonight and thinking on our Lord of Rivendell and his harsh attitude, I came up with this. Someone once said they didn't like Elrond and that he didn't act like the other Elves…well, here's my little take on why. Movieverse!Elrond seems to have an issue with humans…perhaps the old saying of protesting too much could be taken in this situation. As for Celeborn's insinuated problems with Elrond, well I can't readily think of where I got that from, but somehow it seemed to fit, but I like Celeborn, so I didn't mean to misuse the character. Anyhow, I present this in the name of my side obsession with Elrond. ;-) First LOTR fic-let, so please be kind!

**Author**: Ruse – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Elrond or Hugo unfortunately, though if someone knows how I could obtain the latter…er, that wasn't out loud was it?? ;-) LOTR belongs to the Tolkien family as we well know. No infringement intended.  
**Feedback**: Yes! Please, review, by all means. A huge thank-you to all who do! :-) You rock!  
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